The Oregon Shakespeare Festival welcomed the arrival
of summer last weekend with its traditional Solstice ritual of
opening the outdoor Elizabethan Theatre. Theatergoers were treated
to Ashland's temperate clime — sunny, warm days that turned
into cool nights, with stars and waning moon interplaying with
light cloud cover and some surprising gusts of chill wind to cast
the perfect mood for the opening of Richard II.

Richard
II (David Kelly) and Duke of Aumerle (Jos Viramontes).

The first of Shakespeare's eight-play cycle that
chronicles the rise and fall of the Plantagenet line of English
kings, Richard II is a character study of the sensitive,
poetic, divinely right heir to the British throne. The effects
of power on human nature, for good or ill, are broadly outlined.

The right of succession plays a key theme in this
history. R2 had undisputed lineage to William the Conqueror; he
was the grandson of King Edward III, who reigned from 1327 to
1377. Edward III and Queen Philippa had 12 children, seven of
whom were sons. The eldest son, Edward, known as the Black Prince,
was one of the many children who died, leaving his eldest, Richard
II, to be named king upon Edward III's death when R2 was only
10 years old.

Richard's uncles held power while he was a minor,
and save for Gloucester, were loyal to him, in a nod to the Godly
sanctimony of proper succession. That plays a key theme, for the
play opens in 1398, 11 years into R2's reign (He assumed power
at age 20.).

In the opening scene, R2's cousin, Henry Hereford,
or Bolingbroke, accuses Thomas Mowbray, the Duke of Norfolk, of
plotting to kill Gloucester, Henry's and Richard's uncle. Mowbray
and Bolingbroke decide to duel to the death to prove who's right,
but R2, a pacifist like his mother, Joan the Fair Maid of Kent,
calls off the match and instead banishes them both: Henry for
10 years, a sentence later reduced to six years, and Mowbray for
life.

Then comes Richard II's tragic move. Despite the
loyalty he's been shown all his life as divine successor to the
throne, he shows no such loyalty to cousin Henry. When Henry's
father, John of Gaunt dies, R2 takes all his land and holdings,
even though they're rightfully Henry's.

War ensues. Factions battle against each other.
Henry, with the help of Northumberland, ends up taking the throne
away from R2. (Later, Northumberland will turn against Henry,
setting the stage for Henry IV, parts 1 and 2.)

His rise and fall from power give R2 much to emote
about, and finally, alone and imprisoned, he finds solace in the
realm of the spirit. Never having the nature to be king, and having
made poor choices and decisions, he, as a sensitive, artistic,
peaceloving man, can now see the folly in his own pride and ambition.

This production, directed by OSF Artistic Director
Libby Appel, shows promise, but by opening night had simply not
yet come together. Many casts know the feeling of "if only we
had one more week" and this seemed to fit that bill. Problems
with the set, some awkward staging, and actors who couldn't remember
their blocking and lines were distractions. Perhaps because of
these problems, the play becomes tiresome after awhile and it
seems the text could be somewhat edited.

Great attention to costuming by Elizabeth Novak
is what really stands out in this production. By the late 14th
century, women had doffed their veils and let their hair flow
freely, and wore long, elegant dresses. The men wore highly stylized
tunics and rich, flowing robes. These touches, especially the
royal blue velvet cloaks of the king's council, along with the
pomp and ceremony befitting the artistic R2, are well done here.

The most notable aspect of OSF's production
of Isben's Hedda Gabler is the compelling script, translated
by Jerry Turner. Gone is the formal, stilted speech of many Ibsen
translations. Here is the modern, American dialect in a book easily
accessible to audiences and more readily available to actors.
After that, everything just falls into place in this phenomenal
production that shows off the range of Robin Goodrin Nordli (Hedda),
from manic to suicidal. Impeccable performances by Jeffrey King
(George Tesman), Terri McMahon (Thea), Richard Farrell (Judge
Brack) and Jonathan Haugen (Eilert) in addition to tight direction
by Bill Rauch put the shine on this diamond, along with a lighting
scheme that showcases the heavy emotions experienced by Hedda.

The play continues to fascinate audiences because
of the questions it produces. Just what makes Hedda tick? No one
really knows, or claims to know, why she makes the choices she
does. Rauch offers this production as an exploration of her psyche,
with no tidy answers.

Like other Ibsen women, Hedda is a prisoner of
her time. She makes choices even she can't explain, but director
Rauch suggests — through appearances of her father's ghost
— that her actions may be borne out of a serious depression
she's suffered since her father died.

After the death of her father, she accepts the
only offer of marriage she receives, although she has numerous
suitors. Jeffrey King's George is a loving, innocent, childlike
man who has been doted upon his entire life by two aunts and has
just received a doctorate in cultural history. A man of books,
he is moral and dignified, but unprepared for anything other than
academia. To the end, he is astonished he has won the love of
the exciting Hedda.

From Hedda's perspective, George is respectable
and seems to have a solid future in front of him. Ironically,
her former beau, Eilert Lovborg, and her would-be suitor, Judge
Brack, taunt her for marrying him and pursue her, although neither
is marriage-minded.

A spitfire with a love of drama, however, Hedda,
after only five months of marriage is already bored and has returned
from her lengthy honeymoon desperate to begin her social life.
After all, she moans, how boring to be stuck with the same person
day in, day out. But she soon finds her life at home is less than
ideal. Her husband cannot afford just yet to entertain her aristocratic
friends. Hedda immediately feels imprisoned by her social position.
She is intellectually starved, but has neither interests nor the
slightest clue how to pursue any.

Brack capitalizes on her boredom. Farrell plays
him perfectly as the opportunist whose evil gradually grows, creeping
up on Hedda only to force her final act.

When Hedda's old school acquaintance, Thea, enters
her life, Hedda immediately becomes envious of Thea's role as
inspiration to Eilert, also a man of books. Thea has helped Eilert
write a groundbreaking manuscript and has left her husband because
Eilert gave her something he would not — the opportunity
to play the role of intellectual equal.

Hedda doesn't know how to phrase the longing this
knowledge creates in her; she wants to "be responsible for another
person's life" she says, but what she desperately desires is the
role of playing a brilliant man's muse. Her husband, she claims,
isn't worth the effort, but neither does he turn to her for such
inspiration.

Through a series of lies and manipulations, Hedda
manages to find a way to influence Eilert, and to ultimately become
responsible for his life.

A victim of her time, Hedda is trapped in a marriage
she doesn't desire, in a beautiful house she doesn't care about
and with fine furnishings she didn't pick out. What Hedda needs
is more than the ability to go out and get a job, however. She
needs respect. Her inability to gain that from any of the men
in her life, juxtaposed to Thea's ability to get that from both
Hedda's former companion and husband, helps drive Hedda crazy.

In the end, like many of Ibsen's women, Hedda
can find only one way out.

This new collection of essays provides newcomers
and old timers alike a wide range of reflections about the Northwest
experience. As editors Guy Maynard and Kathleen Holt note in their
introduction, these essays are informed by the "social, cultural,
political and economic ideas" that affect the Northwest. And in
his foreword to the collection, Barry Lopez recognizes that in
our fragmented age, the contemporary essayist argues for or tries
"to reason toward, forms of reintegration." These personal essays
help shape a greater appreciation of the shared fate of nature
and people in this unique bio-region.

"Speaking Oregon" by Brian Doyle draws in the
reader with his observations of a hawk he watches through the
window of his office at the University of Portland. "Something"
about the hawk is Oregon to him, he writes. "Perhaps it is his
unerring sense of direction amid the thick trees. Perhaps it is
his silence; I have never heard him utter a sound, and I think
silence is a powerful word in the language of this landscape."

Beth Hege Piatote also works with language in
"A Circle of Words," her thoughtful essay on a ceremony between
the Chief Joseph band of the Nez Perce and the descendants of
C.E.S. Wood. As a young military officer, Wood had recorded the
words of Chief Joseph's surrender in October of 1877. Later Wood
asked Chief Joseph if his son Erskine could visit his people.
The boy spent two summers with Joseph in the late 1890s, which
Erskine described to a reporter in 1956 as "the high spot of my
entire life."

C.E.S. had requested that Erskine see if there
were a gift he could offer Chief Joseph in return for his hospitality.
The boy asked, and Joseph said he would like a fine stallion to
improve his herd. But the boy thought Joseph deserved a greater
gift than a horse and did not give his father Joseph's message.
Erskine, who lived to be 104, regretted his bad decision, as did
later generations of the family.

In 1997, amid a quiet gathering, Joseph's people
offered gifts of woven blankets to the Woods family, and Erskine's
family offered the gift of a stallion to the Nez Perce people
— a ceremonial correction to a 100-year misunderstanding.

In her essay, "Air, Earth, Fire, Water," Jane
Kyle addresses the elements, one at a time. In "Earth" she explores
being a student at the University of Washington, spring of 1965,
and taking a first-year geology class from a young professor.
He introduced the class to new theories about plate tectonics,
volcanism, mountain building and earthquakes.

Speaking of predictions, he asked the class what
they would do if he told them there would be an earthquake on
Monday — move to Miami Beach? With uncanny timing, an earthquake
registering 6.5 on the Richter scale hit the following Monday.
Kyle writes of her experience as if it were happening in this
moment:

"There begins a roaring, like a steam train bearing
down, except you can't locate the coming and going. The ground
shimmies, so little at first I think it's just my own dizzy spell,
but then this accelerates and deepens until the floor begins to
slide and the walls to rock."

Native American ceremonies, hawks and earthquakes
may have little in common logically. But each of these stories
and many others in the collection share what I call a Northwest
sensibility — an intangible interaction between a human
observer and the land, water, traditions, weather, seasons, people,
plants and animals that live here. The region's history, geography
and geology also exert subtle effects.

I have consciously chosen not to review work by
people I know well, but I want to call their essays to your attention,
because they are among the best — "Blood Relative" by Bobbie
Willis, my colleague at Eugene Weekly; "When He Falls Off a Horse"
by Debra Gwartney, my memoir writing teacher; "I Love the Rain"
by Lauren Kessler, my UO writing teacher; "Train Time" by Susan
Rich, who wrote a books column for me; "Finding Frogs" by Cheri
Brooks, my invaluable co-coordinator for a 2001 film festival;
and "Get Off My Log" by Kellee Weinhold, also a former colleague.

If you know someone who is thinking of moving
to the Northwest, or if you just want to know more about this
amazing spot we call home, here's the book for you. I savored
it, a couple of stories a night for a month. It's lovely.

This new manual written by Didi Emmons is filled
with inspiration for the sometimes shaky process of entertaining
at home. More than just a vegetarian cookbook, it stands out as
a how-to for throwing a party with confidence, be it an inexpensive
wedding for 50 or a gourmet omelet brunch for six. One section,
called "Communal casseroles, lasagnas, chilies, stews and savory
pies," focuses entirely on handy, portable and filling potluck
dishes. Another section, "Nibbles and Drinks," is filled with
fascinating dips, like the Ruby Walnut Dip with Artichokes or
the Sweet Potato-Black Bean Salsa, and things to accompany them.
(The Parmesan-Caraway Crackers are next on my list of things to
try.)

Every recipe comes with directions and clues on
how far in advance you can prepare it, and how best to store it.
Filling in the pages are also hints from Emmons and her friends
on things that worked to make a party, or a particular dish, a
success: low lighting to make strangers feel more intimate, five
rules for making vegetarian chili, an exotic peanut butter and
jelly sandwich party with fresh fruits and all kinds of nut butters,
at-home poetry readings and more. Emmons is chef at Veggie Planet
in Cambridge, Mass., and has written the good, creative veggie
cookbook, Vegetarian Planet, as well.

Eugeneans will get a chance to meet the author
and sample some of the dishes at 5:30 pm Monday, June 30th at
Marché restaurant. Marché will be preparing and serving
a five-course tasting menu with recipes from the book, with Emmons
available to sign books. The cost of the meal is $32 per person
with $5 going to the School Garden Project. Call 342-3612 for
more information and reservations.

In a large bowl, soak the tapioca in two cups
cool water for 15 minutes. Drain through a fine-meshed sieve.
Meanwhile in a blender or food processor, puree half of the melon
cubes and transfer to a large bowl, along with the remaining melon
cubes and the coconut milk.

In a medium saucepan, bring three cups of water
to a boil. Add the tapioca and cook until there is only a faint
white dot left in the center of each tapioca pearl, about five
minutes. (To check, taste one of the pearls; it should be soft,
not crunchy.) Remove from heat and add the sugar, stirring until
the sugar dissolves.

Add the tapioca mixture to the melon mixture and
stir well. Taste the pudding and add enough lime or lemon juice
to balance the flavors. Pour into a serving bowl or six individual
cups and chill until the sago is cold, about two hours. The consistency
should be like that of fruited yogurt. Garnish with the mint leaves,
if desired, before serving.

More
at Marché:

A couple other events look noteworthy at Marché
in the coming weeks. A prix fix meal featuring Languedoc-Roussillon's
cuisine and wines is on Wednesday, June 25th, seating beginning
at 5:30, price $35 per person. And on Wednesday, July 9 the staff
will recreate the meal Stephanie Pearl-Kimmel and Rocky Masselli
will prepare at the invitational James Beard House event later
in July. The menu is quite extravagant and should be something
special. The price is $100 per person, including wine and live
entertainment by the staff of Marché. Call 342-3612 for reservations.

The al Fresco market at the Fifth Street Public
Market has already begun, featuring fresh produce from local farms
like Haybales!, Riverbend and Sweetbriar, local wines, mushrooms
and gourmet Oregon-made cheeses, and Pearl-Kimmel's own line of
vinegars and gourmet jams. The market will be open from 10 am
to 4 pm every Wednesday through October.